


A Nightly Routine

by mercurymoon7490195



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Hair Brushing, M/M, just a little nsfw towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurymoon7490195/pseuds/mercurymoon7490195
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Enjolras and Combeferre had their routines, which tended to converge in the evenings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nightly Routine

"And then, then, he tried to convince me to move the meetings to some bar he stumbled upon," Enjolras proclaimed, typing furiously. "Because, you know, that'll make us so much more productive as a unit, to go somewhere where the alcohol flows more freely."

"Mhm." Combeferre murmured noncommittally, untangling Enjolras' hair out of it's messy bun.

"I mean, sure, maybe once in awhile I could get behind, but always?! We'd never get anything done." Enjolras paused only for a sip of water, frowning at his laptop screen. "I don't know what to do with him, 'Ferre, I just don't."

Combeferre shrugged. "I think he just wants to spend more time with you, is all," he said, picking up the brush. "I don't think he's seriously invested in moving the locations of the meetings."

"I know that." Enjolras replied. His fingers clicked steadily over the keyboard, his back hunched as he typed. "I just…If he's not going to take things seriously—"

"Then that's his choice." Combeferre pulled him back by the shoulders, pressing his lips to the top of his head. "You can't make him change his ways, Enjolras—"

Enjolras sighed. "I know that," he repeated. He closed the lid of his laptop, leaning into Combeferre's arms. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know," Combeferre said softly, running the brush carefully through Enjolras' hair. "I want to, though." He smiled, concentrating on the long, blond strands in his hair. "It's relaxing, isn't it?"

"Mm." Enjolras closed his eyes, swaying just slightly with the motion of the brush. "Not going to lie, this might just be why I keep my hair long."

"Oh?" Combeferre smiled. "I thought it was because you were too lazy to get it cut."

"Funny," Enjolras drawled, glancing back. "Because you've never ever been too busy for a haircut."

"When have you seen my hair be anything but immaculate?" Combeferre asked.

"Every morning?" Enjolras said slyly. "Nearly every night?"

"As if bedhead had any sort of diminishing effect on it's radiance."

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "You were reading the dictionary again, weren't you?"

Combeferre shrugged. "Office hours were slow today." He paused, sighing. "Really…really…slow." He shook his head, setting the brush down. "I thought about calling you, once or twice," he continued, raking his fingers across Enjolras' scalp, drawing out a shiver. "To break up the monotony."

"I may have even answered," Enjolras chuckled, tilting his head back into Combeferre's hands. "They canceled my class at noon, so I ended up the library with some of the guys." He smiled. "Marius fell asleep at our table, you see, and Bahorel and Courfeyrac were making a fort around him with all of his law books."

"I bet that ended well."

"Most definitely. Courfeyrac offered to take the librarian out to dinner as an apology."

"You can just imagine the look of surprise on my face." Combeferre said, rolling his eyes He gave Enjolras a few more moments of massage before untangling his fingers from his hair, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Switch?"

"'Course." Enjolras crawled behind him, leaning back against the pillows. "Head or back?"

"Back, if you could." Combeferre closed his eyes, biting his lip as Enjolras started at his shoulders, kneading them with strong, steady fingers. "A little lower…that's the spot." His breath left him in a broken hiss, tinged with just the hint of a low moan in the back of his throat. "I love you."

"Just my hands, or all of me?" Enjolras asked, switching to scratching his back in large, sweeping circles, just hard enough to make Combeferre shiver.

"All of you," Combeferre murmured, resting his face in his hands. "God, I love every inch of you."

"That's good," Enjolras said, peppering his back with kisses. "Otherwise the rest of the night would be pretty awkward."

"Oh?" Combeferre laughed. "Does that mean the rest of the night is going to involve what I'm thinking it will?"

"Perhaps," Enjolras teased, running a finger down his spine. "It's certainly not going to involve a taking my sweet time with you, nor the sound of you begging for me to get you off."

"Is that so?" Combeferre asked, raising an eyebrow."And by certainly not, you mean most definitely will."

Enjolras smiled. "But of course." He pushed Combeferre slowly into the sheets, rolling him over to kiss him properly. Combeferre wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close as his lips slid across his cheek. "We'll see who's begging by the end," he murmured cheerfully, running his hand down Enjolras' back, fingers already tangling in the worn fabric of his shirt. "We'll just have to wait and see."

"Indeed." Enjolras replied. He wriggled out of Combeferre's grasp, pulling away just long enough to turn out the lights.


End file.
